


Letting Go

by thewinchesterrose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, ITS FUCKING SAM OKAY, Oral Sex - Female Receiving, Rough Sex..., Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 01:33:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14885105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewinchesterrose/pseuds/thewinchesterrose
Summary: After a hunt and argument with an over-protective Winchester, sometimes you have to let go of some of the frustrations and desires.





	Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

> MY MASTERLIST ON TUMBLR  
> https://thewinchesterrose.tumblr.com/post/173256082740/the-winchester-roses-masterlist

Your bed.

The one thing you loved more than the occasional one night stands. But the downside was the guys wouldn’t even make you peak, so you’d utilised your Oscar worthy acting skills to pretend. Intimate life aside, it had been another hunt and another heated argument with a Winchester. A simple vampire case down in Michigan, in which you saved the life of the youngest Winchester and sparked heated words and insults at each other. But at the same time, you had never seen Sam so angry, so scared. So possessive. As soon as the car and flown into the garage of the Men of Letters bunker, you slammed the door and walked to room, ignoring Dean’s call for you.

Once you made your way into your bathroom, you removed any clothing that had trace of the vampire and turned on the shower, the hot liquid hitting the white tiles and its steam creeping along the glass walls. Nothing felt better than a hot shower, your radio playing in the room and you murmuring along the lyrics. You ran your fingers through your now clean and smooth hair, as you couldn’t help but think if you had been to harsh on Sam when you defended yourself. But to be fair, he shouldn’t have gotten that pissed, you saved his life.You laid there in complete darkness, staring at the ceiling after a long shower to get the grit and grime off. The soft guitar, flow of the keyboard and and perfectly timed drum beats of “99 Luftbullons” from your radio had filled the atmosphere and to be honest, you could really use a comforting form to hold you close. It wasn’t until you heard the door unlock and slowly open, as the 6'4 Winchester peered in, the low dim light accentuating his rimmed features. You sit up and look at Sam, still a bit angry at him for his attitude towards you earlier. 

“(Y/N)?” Sam asked, the tone in his voice calm and concerned. He opened the door further, the five o clock stubble along his jaw coming into focus. “What Sam?” you ask, clearly still sour. He stops and closes the door behind him as he makes his way to the bed. You keep your eyes on him as he makes each move. The bed shifted under you as he sat next to you. “I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to be so rude.” Sam states as he continues to apologise. Just the tone in his voice made your heart soften and expression ease. It had been a rough ride, heck for the three of you. You had met the Winchesters at a case, for you too were an ‘FBI agent’ and seeking the scene. You had heard of the Winchesters before and their past…problems, but heck who hadn’t? You were so good, the boys thought you were for real. But then you ganked, wait for it, 'Gandhi’ as he was attacking the boys. And you knew at the time that Gandhi was against the violence, yada yada, which was ironic considering he was a wax doll trying to kill them. 

The boys had taken you under their wing and called you their little sister. It had now been 6 years since you joined the boys, and to be honest, you knew deep down that you wanted more than to be friends with the youngest Winchester. 

“(Y/N)?” Sam said. It was only until he said your name that you realised that you got lost in thought. He looked at you with his puppy eyes that can even melt the strictest of hearts, his hazel orbs perfectly illuminated. You were starting to feel a haze and wanted to kiss his lined lips. “I just wanted to say, I care about you too much to watch you get hurt for me.”

“Its okay Sammy” you said, you stood and patted his shoulder, starting to walk to the door. 

“No its not.” he breathed from close behind. It took a full second to realise that he was right behind you, his hands starting to snake up your waist, along you side and to your neck. His chest pressed into your back as you stood still. Sam had never been this touchy with you, he always kept it to a minimum and knew your limits. His long, calloused but soft fingers carefully wrapped around your neck, almost cradling it. “I don’t want you to get hurt (Y/N), especially for what you drive me through.” You didn’t know what he meant at first, until you felt it in the curve of your back, a blush obviously creeping up. 

“Sammy…” you breathed, as his head started to dip into the junction between you neck and shoulder, pulling back the shirt collar. His breath caressed the skin, as his lips caught the skin and kissed it. He kissed along your neck, up your jaw and eventually under your lips. He carefully made his way to the front as he cupped you cheek, looking at your (Y/E/C) dance in the light. You did what you knew. You crashed your lips to his in anticipation. He stumbled back a little, but the familiar feel of his strong, yet soft hands on your waist made the pose casual. Your hands had raked themselves into his hair, your fine fingers intertwining with the surprisingly soft strands. He too, had relaxed into the kiss, his lips gently grasping your bottom lip and dragging them slowly through the teeth that spread across his face into a small grin. 

“I’ve waited 6 years for this moment,” you felt his hand reach under your shirt, tugging at the flesh slightly hanging over the waistband of the dark tracks you wore. His eyes had no doubt turned darker and harder from the excitement. “Six damn years.” He growls the last part and picks you up by your thighs, laying you enthusiastically on the bed. He obviously towers over you and smirks. “You know how hard it is watching those shorts you wear curve these perfect hips? Watching and growling at men as they make their move on you? It drives me crazy (Y/N)." 

You swallowed and sat up kissing him, removing his flannel. You inhaled deeply as the adrenaline rushed, and there was that smell. This scent of whiskey, leather and that godforsaken aftershave that you couldn’t put your finger on. It was the Winchester scent. And hell forbid, you fucking loved it. When he felt your hands running along his toned physique, he couldn’t help but let out a moan as you pulled away his top. And you let him do the same. His hands were on your sides, the palms and all squeezing the flesh that lined along your body, as he pulled of your shirt. His lip turned into that snarl that you always thought was animalistic, possessive. You noticed the growing bump in the denim confines and you couldn’t help but smirk. 

"Alright there, moose?” Your hand trails up his thigh, the sudden courage and knowledge to do so seemed new to you. You’ve had sex before. But you never thought that you’d have sex with Sam Winchester, or any Winchester at that. They liked girls with confidence and if anything you didn’t much appreciate certain body aspects as much as they liked to see. He groaned a little, as his arms flew up and pinned you to the bed. His head was between your neck and kissing, niping, sucking the skin as it caught between those lips. He trailed the kisses down to your chest, taking your breasts, exposed and all, into the soft kisses. His hands had trailed down to your hips, no sure pulling away your tracks and underwear. When he felt the bare skin, he growled. 

“So fucking beautiful (Y/N), I want you. I need you.” He growled, almost chanting. His head dipped lower as his lips enveloped your sensitive skin around your waistline, your back arching at the contact. He looked up every now and then, his hazel eyes making sure that everything he did was safe, sensual and perfect. He spread your legs, gently placing them over his shoulders.Everything you thought about Sam, anything of him being the sweetest, most gentle and caring man as a hunter flew out the window. He was rough, animalistic and god forbid you were sore tomorrow. He had dipped his head so fast inbetween your legs so fast and started his torture, you swear you were frozen in time.

A wave of hard, painful yet pleasurable heat and shock had been sent through your body, hot streaks shooting through every nerve in your body. He sucked on your clit hard, swirling that god forsaken tongue around repeatedly. He dragged it up and down, pushing occasionally into your dripping core. Hey, if someone as sexy as the Winchesters were about to screw you into oblivion, you’d be Niagara Falls. You whimpered loud and painfully, the younger Winchester looking up. But all he did was smirk, your head tilting. Then you felt it. Two long, calloused yet gentle fingers had pushed into you, curling and touching your sweet spot.

“Oh fffuck….!” You screamed out, almost shrieking. Sam laughed a little and his eyes turned cold again. 

“Come for me baby girl.” Sam growled. And you followed, you were being edged and his tone had pushed you over. You moaned loudly, your bundle of nerves numb, walls tightened and heart beating. Sam dipped down and lapped up your release, a deep growl emitting from his throat. “So fucking sweet, if I had time, I’d eat you all fucking day.” He said through each lap and suck.You fell back, the soft blankets enveloping you. Sam hovered over you and smirked.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m not done with you.” You didn’t know what he meant at first, until you felt the tip of his length against your lips. He pushed himself in slowly, allowing you to stretch and accomodate to his size. And fuck was he huge. A wanton moan left your lips and a slight yelp at that when he bottomed out inside of you. He too, had groaned at the sudden contact and couldn’t help but growl. “Fucking tight…” He started to roll his hips and slam into your pussy, each thrust dragging deliciously over your sweet spot, your clit once again stimulated gently by the skin of his hips. 

The heavy and needy groans filled the small space as the Divinyls played on the radio. More ironically, “I Touch Myself” played. It had reached a point in which it was slow love making, but rather animalistic need to feel the other person. Sam grunted as he violently thrusted up inside you, the rough and fast movements causing small paper thin cuts to form inside you. You moaned and wailed, Dean sure to hear everything happening. 

“Sam…!” you screamed in pleasurable pain, whimpering. He grunted and moaned, looking at you with lust blown irises. 

“Come for me…” He growled almost commanding. And you did, the second time in twenty minutes. The burning pain and stinging shot through your body. Sam himself thrusted twice more before he himself came undone. White streaks of his hot release shot out, coating your numb walls. He moaned and pulled out, his being falling beside you. The next minute or two was left breathing and panting, following the past activities. You just had sex with Sam Winchester. The youngest Winchester. For fucks sake, you just had sex with a WINCHESTER. Mean, killing, fighting machines, who were gods in bed. Bless to John Winchester to falling, literally, for Mary Campbell and creating these men. Sam turned to you and given a smile. 

“Sammy that was….” You breathed, smiling a little as you turned to your side to face him. “I know, shame I had to wait a while.” Sam smiled. He strokes your hair softly and places a kiss to your forehead, pulling your being close. And before you knew it, you were out. 

-oOo-

You stumbled out of your room, rubbing your cheeks. You were half asleep and barely able to register anything, only a good shot of whiskey and coffee or maybe both together could wake you up. You made your way down to the library, a small chuckle from the table. Opening your eyes at a sleepy pace, you see Dean smiling almost smugly at you, a cup of straight coffee in his hand. “Nice shirt ya got.” Dean stated. You looked down to find the oversized flannel that Sam wore and brought it closer to your body, cuddling it.you smiled at the musk and the warm touch of it made you want to curl back into bed. “Also,” Dean started, but you were quick to shut him up.

“If you make a single remark of the sounds that came out of my room, I will personally kill you, Egyptian style.” You laugh a little and you both share the whiskey and coffee for the next hour. Maybe one of these days you’ll have your turn with the older Winchester.


End file.
